Just woke up from a scary dream where I went home but when I got there, there was another Me inside, so I was banging on the door like let me in PLEASE. And all my friends and my sister were like uuhhh?? But then the Other Me told them to hear me out, and I got inside, and we were like. We decided it didn’t matter. There could just be two of me now and that was fine.
She was nice
Tags:
#dreams #relatable
geordi, filming: hey what’s up everyone i’m geordi and today we’re gonna see if we can get doom to run on my friend data here
data: *half smile wave*
Tags:
#Star Trek #TNG #I didn’t actually laugh aloud but it still amused me enough to reblog #Doom
Bad: Superhero whose secret identity is just staggeringly obvious, but nobody picks up on it for various implausible reasons.
Good: Superhero whose secret identity is just staggeringly obvious, and everybody “knows”, but in spite of countless people’s best efforts nobody can actually prove it.
“Literally everyone knows that Bruce Kent is the Masculine Mongoose,” said the woman sitting across from me in our candlelit dinner. “The superheroes know it. The villains know it. The guy on the street knows it. Uncontacted tribes in the Amazon know it. The Enquirer doesn’t break the mask code when they print your picture because they don’t even bother mentioning who you are. If I need to have conversations with you pretending not to know that Bruce is the ‘Goose, we’re going to be the only two people on the planet pretending that.”
My expectations for this date’s viability were starting to sink. She was saying intelligent things, and saying them with remarkable confidence and self-possession for somebody who thought she was talking to the Masculine Mongoose himself. It was impressing me and more than slightly turning me on. But the conversation had taken a turn I’d been down before, and not a promising one. “I don’t want to get into a relationship under false pretenses,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said. “Like if I slept with you under the impression that you were just an ordinary playboy millionaire, instead of a superhero.” She sipped from her champagne glass, visibly trying not to smile.
“Look,” I said, trying to make my voice as persuasive as I could. “Just like you say, everyone knows that Bruce Kent is the Masculine Mongoose. People have believed that for eight years. And in all that time, nobody has ever managed to prove anything – never mind suggestive evidence, nobody has ever shown it for certain. Shouldn’t that give you pause?”
I would read an entire novel series about this concept.
To her dying day, reporter Terri Green would remember the look on Bruce Kent’s face as the assassin stepped out of the crowd, holding the gun.
(5000 words. This story takes place chronologically before the first two Bruce Kent fics, but should be read afterwards.)
There was no warning. One moment I was waiting in line at the Gothic Cityville branch of the First Financial Bank to get a cashier’s check made out, trying to ignore the whispers coming from before me and behind me. Bruce Kent is very rigorous about pretending to not be the Masculine Mongoose, as everyone knows by now. Bruce Kent acts uncomfortable around people who whisper when they recognize him, just like he would if he was a normal human being who’d gotten mistaken for the Mongoose somehow. Keeping up the act at all times, yeah, that’s me all right.
The next moment, the glassed front door of the bank shattered into pieces around a woman stomping through in giant flaming power armor. She was followed shortly after by ten other goons in smaller suits of flaming power armor. When I say ‘flaming’ I don’t mean that it was decorated in red and orange, I mean that the powered suits were emitting gouts of fire from built-in spouts.
Professor Pyrofessor had somehow, God help her and both of us, managed to pick that exact moment to rob this particular bank branch.
Tags:
#storytime #oh look an update #embarrassment squick? #superheroes #death tw?
Posted by:yourlibrarian
As sites hosting art, text, music, and more continue to either close up shop or change their Terms of Service, there have been various efforts to save content on what is often very short notice. It would be even better if fans gave our works this attention before a crisis hits.
While creators have often used multiple sites to host their works, one type of work has generally been left out of fans’ efforts at archiving and preserving fanworks – meta. In many cases, meta posts have not been copied anywhere else other than the location where they were first posted, leaving them particularly vulnerable to loss.
So what if we can make a small dent in getting it saved? The March Meta Matters Challenge is focused on not just new meta, but making sure older meta gets a chance to be read and remain a part of fandom history. While new meta is also encouraged, the priority for Meta Matters is to make sure meta doesn’t vanish with sites or personal accounts when those get closed or moved.
That’s also why the challenge will be using the Archive of Our Own as a destination site.
A primary purpose for AO3 is to serve as a perpetual site for fanwork preservation – and this includes meta! It’s intended as a host of last resort, and it accepts all content and fandoms. Many people already have accounts there, and for those who don’t, they are free to get (and offer various perks). And for people who want to find meta, the site is designed for searchability (unlike, say, most social media sites).
This will be a month-long event and will function as follows: ( Read more… )comments
source https://marchmetamatterschallenge.dreamwidth.org/581.html
@watchmebitch @monstrous-hourglass I think I said before that some of your longer posts on the new lore/Noxus would be good on AO3 and I stand by that.
@olderthannetfic Hey, more about meta!
I’ve just been looking at this!
It’s a great idea. I will indeed comb through my tumblr and see what should be transferred to AO3 for long term access. I am still dubious about the fandom purges one, but I have a number of actual essays that aren’t on there.
Who’s going to take the meta archiving challenge with me?
I should dig out some of the meta I did a zillion years ago.
Tags:
#101 Uses for Infrastructureless Computers #signal boost #fandom #amnesia cw?
I want to hear more from people who dislike orgasms. You typically only seem to hear about how wonderful they are, but I want to hear more about the flip side.
Why don’t you like them? How do they make you feel? Do you think your asexuality plays a part?
It feels foreign and invasive [link], something intruding into my mind rather than part of me, trying to re-write my desires. The new, stronger form of arousal that leads (or at least *can* lead) up to it is distracting, attention-grabbing in a way I don’t like, and that makes it harder to masturbate in a way that’s *truly* satisfying, truly *mine*.
(That bit seems like it needs a context link, but I’m not sure which one would be best: maybe this one.)
This has only been happening for about 1 – 2.5 years, depending on how you count. I miss when there were fewer pitfalls.
Tags:
#oh hey look *another* way my body has deteriorated over the last couple years #(even if most people wouldn’t conceptualise it that way) #sexuality and lack thereof #Possible TMI #I’ve been thinking about whether to maybe answer this for like a week #but the tie-in with my previous post seems to have convinced me #reply via reblog #is the blue I see the same as the blue you see
Riding a bike is one of those things that’s a very physical experience, so if you haven’t ridden, then there’s a lot you will naturally not be aware of. I love motorcycle scenes in stories, but over the years I’ve noticed that scenes written by non-riders almost always make the same mistakes. They’re ubiquitous in fact, to the point that if you haven’t been there to learn the contrary yourself, it’s natural to assume that’s how it actually works.
The first thing to know about motorcycles is that when driving, the motorcycle performs as an extension of you. It’s almost cybernetic, the way your mass and balance fuse with the machine’s, the way it transmutes your sense of your surroundings and the surface you’re driving on, and the sense of the bike itself and how it’s performing.
Most notably, the driver’s center of gravity becomes the central steering mechanism. At speeds faster than around 10 mph, the driver steers primarily through shifting their center of balance. If you want to turn left, you lean your body left. You’re actually tilting yourself and the motorcycle to take curves and corners.
When carrying a passenger, then, the passenger needs to shift their center of gravity along with the driver’s. It’s like taking the ‘follower’ position in partner dancing. You lean WITH them; not less, because then your weight counters theirs and they end up not turning (which can be highly bad if, say, the road does not go that way), and not more, because then the bike could tip right over.
Being a good passenger on a bike is not a huge learning curve for most people, but there is a learning curve. And some people have more of a knack for it than others. Some people are natural back-seat drivers, for whatever reason overly pushy, eager, demanding, or determined that they know better than you, and have a habit of making it hard on the driver. I’ve had people tell me they hate riding pillion even if they’re good at it, because they don’t like how out-of-control it feels. I detest it myself, in fact; I’d far rather be driving, and it’s a constant struggle for me to just follow along and behave myself.
This means, though, that carrying a passenger who weighs significantly more than you can be a tricky business. I weigh about 110, and when carrying a rider weighing significantly more than that, it’s awfully easy to crash if the passenger tries to back-seat steer. (A way to mitigate this, especially for new passengers, is to simply take 15 minutes or so to bump around quiet local roads at low speeds so that the driver and passenger can familiarize themselves a bit with minimal risk to themselves.)
Now, undoubtedly the #1 most-committed mistake I see from almost everybody who writes about motorcycles (and for that matter, a lot of unsuspecting new passengers try it in real life) is the ‘wrapping arms around the driver’s waist’ business. It’s so common that this line is practically required by law when somebody’s writing a motorcycle scene, but seriously: DON’T DO THAT. <–The all caps there is not for shaming; it’s for emphasizing the safety issues. It’s not only uncomfortable for the driver, it’s potentially dangerous. It makes it hard to steer, hard to breathe comfortably, and easy to get jerked off balance and into a crash.
In a similar vein, holding onto the driver via grabbing their clothing is ill-advised. This can lead to getting jerked off balance, having seams dig in painfully, and being choked by fabric.
What to do instead: The rider sitting pillion should brace their hands on either side of the driver’s waist.
I know, if you’re in it for the sexual tension, this sounds less sexy, but I’m here to tell you that’s a filthy lie. A passenger who’s sitting properly is basically molded onto the driver’s back. Riding with/being a passenger on a bike is a startlingly intimate experience. There’s a lot of trust and teamwork involved, which takes place at a kinesthetic level. It feels a lot like dancing, as I said before, or maybe partnered sports, where the collaboration is happening at a physical, bone-deep level that often skips right past the conscious intellect.
Now, sometimes (you may’ve seen this on the road) you’ll have passengers who prefer to hang onto a part of the bike–bits of the frame, maybe, or a ‘sissy bar’/seat back sticking up from the back. It’s not uncommon, but it’s a bad habit because the passenger is never quite as in-tune with the driver this way, and if something happens–a tire slips in a puddle, for example–their weight moving in the wrong direction can end up jerking the bike out of the driver’s control.
Another thing I see a lot of writers do in stories that doesn’t work in real life: unfortunately, helmets are NOT easily swappable. They’re designed to clasp the head; a well-fitted helmet should not move on your head at all, even if you shake your head hard (though it also shouldn’t be tight enough to exert uncomfortable pressure). A helmet that fits loosely is useless at best and dangerous at worst. One that’s too tight is either painful or doesn’t go on at all. It doesn’t take much difference in the size of two people’s heads for one person’s helmet to not fit the other person properly. (And even if they’re the same size, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll be comfortable for more than short-term wear, but hey.)
Also, the stupid things are ridiculously expensive–especially the full-face models–so most bikers aren’t lucky enough to have a bunch of extras just laying around.
Another tip, both for writing and riding: riding pillion on a sports bike (those sleek ones where the driver’s crouched and leaning forward like a race jockey) is a miserable freaking experience. On a lot of models, you’re perched up there on something that barely counts as a seat and leaves you constantly feeling like you’re about to slide off the back; your legs are pushed up into a crouch; you’re hunched like a monkey over the driver; and possibly you’ve got a scalding-hot muffler pressed up against your calf.
(Pro tip: if anybody ever invites you for a ride on their bike and you’re wearing shorts, pay attention to where the muffler’s located in relation to the foot pegs.)
Now, what is it about motorcycles that makes some of us bikers go into a lathered-up frenzy at the idea of riding? It’s because it FEELS SO DAMN ALIVE.
Look. It’s like…life these days is, well, canned. We spend a lot of our time in pods–houses, cars, subway trains–breathing tinned air, walking around on pavement or carpet… But when I’m on a bike, it’s me and a 360 degree panorama of the world, and there’s nothing between me and it. Some people get off on the risk of that, but for me it’s a matter of immersion. When I ride, I can feel the cool humid air rolling down from under a forested hillside. I can smell the road dust, the oil, the exhaust, the herby scent of weeds and wildflowers on the roadside, the river I’m driving near, the shady scent of a forest, the roadside fruit stand…and I’m not talking in that wafty, broken-up way you get if you roll the car doors down. It’s like driving into a wall of scent, crashing through one bubble after another of temperature changes and smells and sounds and sights, and I have this bike underneath me that’s rumbling and vibrating and moving like it’s part of me, and it’s just the most powerful sense I’ve ever had of being in charge of my own life and not hiding from the world. I can see it, and it can see me, and yeah, that’s a bit dangerous, but it’s also real.
God, that last paragraph particularly gets to me, as someone with an [airborne environmental sensitivity NOS that is apparently not technically an allergy] [link].
I fucking *flinched* at the description of the scents of the outdoors, because to me those scents have come to mean “your mask seal has failed and you’re gonna be paying for it later”. I miss outdoor scents, but I’ve also grown to fear them.
That paragraph is even better at expressing the intertwining of realness and danger than OP intended.
Tags:
#interesting #the more you know #motorcycles #reply via reblog #tangents #allergies #(haven’t found a better tag yet)
one time a cold caller tried to open with “we are calling about your recent car accident” and i asked him what a car was and he hung up
Tags:
#anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #embarrassment squick?
I took hormonal birth control (Zovia 1/35; I think the progesterone/estrogen balance is important but it doesn’t have to be this specific birth control) to imitate pregnancy progesterone levels, and domperidone (20mg, four times a day) for six months, then went off the hormonal birth control and started pumping every four hours for two weeks. By the end of those two weeks I was producing about 4oz a pumping session, and gradually grew that to about 7.
I did this in consultation with a lactation consultant and I recommend that if you can afford it/access it, but hormonal birth control has well-understood relatively limited risks and domperidone is a safe medication you can order online at inhousepharmacy so I can imagine doing it yourself being the right choice for some people who don’t have meaningful access to a lactation consultant.
Sam did this too and got some milk but lower milk supply than me, so results definitely vary, and of course the most important thing for thriving kids is parents who are not stressed and miserable, not whether they’re fed breastmilk or formula. I hope it works for you if you end up deciding to try it but I am sure your baby will be totally fine either way.
Tags:
#I have less than no desire to do this myself #but I’m very glad to hear it’s an option for people who want that #lactation #fertility cw #medical cw #proud citizen of The Future #the more you know
Brinens and Things 